The Fisher King de Anúna

went down by the riverside
That runs between the hazel'd halls
And on an apple-blossomed hill
I slept beside the golden falls

And as I wandered far in sleep
The fisher king flashed blue on gray
I heard a voice come from the deep
And call my name from far away

Rain won't wash away the memories
And the wind won't hide her perfume
But it blows

I linger by the western sea
I hear the horseman riding past
Young dreams I dreamt are gone from me
Like summer whispers in the grass

Rain won't wash away the memories
And the wind won't hide her perfume
But it blows

Rain won't wash away the memories
And the wind won't hide her perfume
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